Steel Walls and Dirt Drops (25 page)

Chapter
Thirty-Five

Misha checked her six in the corridor on the way back to her day office. She was completely alone. She stood still and shuddered deeply. She asked herself how any person could be so self-absorbed not to notice how he gave her the cold nauseating shivers. "Still," she had to admit, "he is pretty. Wonder how good he would be in bed? Maybe if he had a personality transplant, with something nicer like a male DropSix lowland warthog in heat. No, I am not that bad off yet. I’ll have to penalize myself with extra time in the training bay for such thoughts."

Misha shivered again and rounded the corner into
APES territory. Her day office was the first hatch down the side corridor. She needed the data reader embedded into her desk to decipher the codes on the glass-pack she had been given. Since it was the middle of the day, she didn't bother knocking. Surely, Forrester would have the bedroom hatch closed if he was sleeping.

Fo
rrester wasn't alone. He was sitting next to Kiirkegaard's Med-Tech Jèsusa Rezzi. They were side-by-side as close as two people can be without embracing. Upon her entrance, the woman flinched and started to slide away. Forrester put a hand on Rezzi's knee to stop her movement.

"Well, Misha
," Forrester said. "I’m sure you know this is exactly what it looks like." Rezzi began blushing through her dark, olive skin. It flushed a deep red in contrast with her black shiny hair.

Misha replied, "I
’m sorry to intrude. It doesn't matter to me what it looks like." Despite her words, she knew her face belied her emotions. "Besides, isn't the line ‘nothing was going on and it's not what it looks like’?"

Forrester said quickly, "You need to let me explain."

Misha interrupted him. "No. I’m not the one who deserves an explanation even if this is my office. It is not my business."

Rezzi said, "Please, Third let me explain. No don't interrupt. Gan is just trying to protect me. He knows
what it would not do my career any good to be seen with him; at least, not on this spacecraft. I know it’s a double standard, but officers can sleep around with whomever they choose. Enlisted, specifically female enlisted, are supposed to restrict themselves to other spacers. It's like we are some kind of property or something."

"Like I said," Misha answered. "It
’s not my place to judge or to hear your confession. Who you associate with is your business."

Rezzi pleaded, "But, if Colonel Britaine finds out that I
’ve been meeting with Gan, I could catch hell."

Misha grit her teeth. The room
was silent as she counted to ten.

"Why does everyone assume I would run to Britaine with every little piece of gossip that falls my
way? Even if I was sleeping with him, and I am not," she said pointedly. "I still wouldn't run to him about every trifling." She looked at Forrester. "It isn't me or Britaine who needs an explanation. I’m not a prude. What you two do is your business. It is none of my concern, but tell me Gan, are you sure that is everyone who would care about you sleeping around?"

Forrester started to speak, "Jèsusa has been a close family friend for a long
-”

Rezzi stopped him with a hand over his. "Third McPherson, I think I know where you
’re going. I will say this: I know Gan is married. I’ve known his wife longer than I have known Gan. I can guarantee she wouldn't have a problem with us being together, certainly not when we are both so far from home."

Misha said
again, "It is not my concern." But she thought to herself, "Why do I care? Maybe I am just a bit jealous? Me? Yes, I am and I should be ashamed of myself." She shook her head and said, "I’m sorry. I may have been acting a bit judgmental. I guess I’ve come to like Gan and I didn't want to see him make a mistake."

Forrester
sputtered a laugh.

Rezzi flared, "So, you think that being with me is a mistake? Who the hell do you think you are,
lady?"

Misha held her hands up in surrender, "I give. That
’s not what I meant. I mean…well, maybe it was. Please accept my apology." She couldn't help thinking this conversation hadn't gone as well as she would like. Forrester was sitting there laughing, being no help at all and this little spacer looked like she was ready to come at her tooth and nail.

Rezzi flashed, "
I won't be back here if you don't approve of me. Sergeant Forrester, give my regards to your wife."

Forrester's laughter strangled out. "Hold on,
Rezzi."

Misha held out her hands, "Hey! I've said I'm sorry. I know I didn't say it well. I am sorry I interrupted you two. I am also sorry I acted like a prude and was overly judgmental.
I stand by my offer to Sergeant Forrester for the use my day office and the private bedroom. I won't retract it. Who he invites here is his business and it’ll not go beyond these bulkheads."

"Well…" Rezzi relented and sat back down. "I guess none of us handled this as well as we should."

Misha thought, "Not me. Here I am trying to get information from this Marshal Sergeant, and I insult him and his mistress. That is good work, Misha; you might as well have stayed on DropSix and had babies." She said to the two, "I really need to use the data reader on the desk for official business. I hate to jump on your case and then have to chase you out for a bit, but the message is encoded and probably classified. Please use the bedroom. The hatch doesn't have a lock, but I promise not to disturb you in there."

Rezzi said, "I am sorry
, too. I seem to be a bit hot tempered these days."

Forrester laughed, "These days? You don't give yourself credit enough. Misha, this woman is a
fire-breathing temper machine. You should see what she did to the best man at my wedding when he got drunk and grabbed her ass."

Rezzi laughed, "Drunken fool. He should
’ve known better. I did light into him, didn't I? Third McPherson, I thank you for the offer of the bedroom, but I do have duty shortly so I should go."

Misha said, "Gan, this glass-pack data was delivered by the
FACs sent back to Heaven's Gate. I think Britaine was looking for you. He may have a packet from the Marshal's Service for you. He was angry he couldn't comm you and he complained pretty loudly about you having your comm off. Guess we know now why it was off, don't we? No. Don't say anything. That was a bit catty, wasn't it? Sorry you two, I will try to get this out of my system soonest. Now get out of my office. I got work to do."

Once Forrester and Rezzi left
, she hit the seal bolts on the hatch slamming them in place. She slid the desk chair along the deck track and sat at the desk. She pulled the glass-pack out of the case and dropped it into the reader. It was set for voice recognition. She spoke her name and rank.

"Fourth-Level Commander Kema Ottiamig here." The man's regal image floated into place above the reader. He smiled and winked at her. Misha smiled back even though she knew it was just a recording.

"Quad Kema, good to see you again," she said quite unnecessarily.

Fourth Ottiamig continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "I send the regards of Fifth Vaslov. The Fist said specifically she wants a rematch with you on the martial arts mats when you get back to Heaven Three. And next time don’t whip up so badly on the woman who is your boss's boss.
That is not good office politics." He smiled brightly at her out of his holo-image.

Misha smiled back. She remembered the match well with Fifth-Level Commander IvanYetta Vaslov. The Fist and Misha
did quite a bit of damage to each other. Vaslov, Ottiamig and she knew bad politics or not, it was even worse in combat training to pull your punches. It would lead to muscle memory betrayal during actual combat. Misha never pulled her punches and both commanders knew it.

Ottiamig's
continued, "I have been ordered to take second-tier units 1390th, 1395
th
, and the 1397
th
of the 139
th
third-tier on deployment by another route to the Altec System. My quad squad is deployed with the 1390
th
per our usual configuration. FYI, the remainder of the Third Tier command has been redeployed as follows; the 1393rd and the 1398th are being sent forward to the Gagarin System as backup for the Altec Expedition, plus the 1391st and the1396th are being deployed to Heaven’s Gate as deep reserve. I am not at liberty to discuss the placement of the 1394th or the 1399th. Their location holds no bearing on the Altec Expedition. We are scheduled to reach Altec in concert with Gurand's squadron. This is possible because the AMSF command originally thought a roundabout route to the system would increase the chances of taking any Binders by surprise.”

O
ttiamig frowned, furrowing his brow. "With your discovery of the Binder signal in two Allied Space systems, we cannot be sure Gurand will take the Binders by surprise. The AMSF decided to strengthen the commitment into Altec by sending in a second flight wing by a more direct route. The Sixth agreed and is sending the additional second-tier units under my command. Your 1392nd will link with me ASAP.

"Sorry,
Third McPherson, I know you were expecting your first official independent command, but that will have to wait. The way you handled Guinjundst proved to all of your command that you have what it takes to lead. This is no reflection on you."

Misha wondered if it should be a reflection. She was
pleased to know that a more experienced commander would be responsible. She was also glad she was alone in her office. She was sure the relief on her face was evident.

"One last thing
, and this comes directly from the Sixth himself, good job on isolating the Binder signal. Stay on top of it. We need to know what they are up to and how far they have gotten into Allied Space. Report any findings on this by any means necessary. Let your people know about the Binder signal and any significance you attach to it. The AMSF wants this signal to stay classified, but the Sixth says, and I quote: ‘we don't care’. This is a good indication that we will find Binder activity in Altec. We want our people prepared, not guessing in the dark. Keep the Guinjundst events under your hat for now. At least until we get secondary confirmation. The Sixth also wants your input in your next report on how or if this signal ties into what happened on Guinjundst.

"Unofficially, you have my nephew in your squad. He is my youngest brother's boy. I was very concerned when the assignment into Third Can's squad fell to him. I don't know what stroke of fortune put him in your hands.
Please note that I am not asking for special treatment. Quite the opposite, push him hard. He has a lot of promise. He has my natural and superior skill as a warrior." Misha could see the laughter in Kema's eyes. "However, he has my Brother Jimmy's lazy streak. Jimmy is a Deuce in the 1151
st
. I would be appreciative if you kept me up to date on his progress, simply as a matter of courtesy. There are no favors asked or given, comprende?

"That's it for now, Third. You take care and we will link up soon." Ottiamig wave
d a hand and disappeared, like the Cheshire cat leaving his smile until last.

Misha dropped her glass-pack into the second reader slot and ordered a copy of the message dropped into her official files buried behind a dozen firewalls and safety pass-codes. She
then ordered the reader to wipe and destroy all data on the glass-pack and she pocketed the blank glass-pack. She might as well give it to Qualls for reuse in the squad's communication supplies.

She compiled a brief report containing all information on the unit transfers, the AMSF reconfigurations and the Binder signal data. She broadcast the report to her unit with a copy to her files for transmittal to command at the first opportunity. As a
courtesy, she cc'd Colonel Britaine, Chief Master Sergeant Brown and Gan Forrester. She also made a mental note to ask if Chief Brown could tell her what 'cc' meant.

Misha was sure she would
be learning from the best if she could get Chief Brown to teach her how to kick her people’s collective asses into high gear. She didn’t want to kick ass, but to kick it up a notch and kick it into overdrive. Still, whatever the outcome she was in the mood to kick someone and her own squad was just about all that was left unless she took on the whole spacecraft.

Misha’s intention was to restart her squad's general inspection where she had left off earlier. All of her seconds had reported their inspection results. There were quite a few down checks and gigs, but overall they were good ratings. Her own squad had done much better than she had expected. It was almost perfect. Still, she liked a hands-on approach, whether it gigged her troops or offended her seconds. Whatever her intention, someone was going to get angry at her. Mentally, she shrugged knowing it was that kind of month.

Earlier,
she had been inspecting each trooper's armor and weaponry. She was not concerned with the typical military spit and polish inspection criteria. Her objective was combat readiness. She didn't care if it was dirty as long as the dirt didn't interfere with the item's effectiveness. In truth, most of the veteran's combat suits had a haphazard mixture of graffiti, scratches, smudges and combat tattoos. Misha had been inspecting Quall's suit when she received the call to join Britaine’s briefing. Then the jump warning alert sounded causing another flurry of activity further delaying her inspection. After Qualls, she had only Metzler and Singletary left to complete.

Taking up where she left off
, Misha stepped up to Trooper Tammie Qualls's suit locker. She smiled as she noticed someone had been puttering around inside the H.E. launcher controls and had repaired the small glitch she had seen earlier. Qualls stood quietly to the side as Misha dug through the various suit systems. She could see a slight sheen of sweat begin to glisten on the young woman's upper lip. Misha mentally shook her head. Qualls might make a good trooper some day, but she had to toughen up. She rattled too easily. Misha popped open the suit’s comms compartment. Everything was in order as one would expect for a comms tech. The slot for the glass-pack, extra comm gear, IFF signal relay, squad channel ID relays… she froze.

Slowly Misha looked at
Qualls and said, "IFF."

Qualls
looked confused, but snapped to quote the APES manual. "Sir! Yes, sir! IFF is Identity Friend or Foe. It is a broadcast...?" Qualls's voice trailed off as it became apparent Misha wasn't listening. "Third? Is there something wrong?"

Misha replied and slapped her hand on her forehead. "Wrong? Have you ever put a jigsaw puzzle together?"

"Jigsaw, sir?" Qualls asked. "Sure, we used to do them all the time as kids. Doesn't everybody?"

Misha clasp her arms around the trooper and laughed. "Yes, on every human planet we do jigsaw puzzles. You know the feeling you get when you put in the last piece of the puzzle? Well, you just did that for me."

Misha turned to the rest of the squad. "Singletary, finish the inspection on Jigsaw here, on Metzler, and just for good measure run a check on Slezak’s gear, too. I know you just did it, but do it again. DeLaPax, since you are the senior armor repair tech, do an inspection on Singletary’s suit and then check mine. Peace, do you have the 1392nd's override and lockdown codes for all the lockers or do you need me to cycle open Slezak's and mine for you? Got it? Good. Something has occurred to me that I have to take care of before the next jump."

Misha closed her fist and pumped her arm up and down, "Good inspection,
APES. We are looking excellent." She realized she still had an arm around Qualls's shoulders. "You too, Jigsaw, this has been a good inspection." She gave the woman a squeeze of encouragement and then let go.

She tapped her comm unit to broadcast
unit wide "McPherson here. All right, APES. Check your glass-packs for newly downloaded comms and intel reports. I downloaded some new data. Furthermore, the AMSF has gotten a data dump from Heaven's Gate, so there should be mail from home. I want you to check your intel reports first before you check with Mama to see if the cat had kittens."

Misha hurried thr
ough the hatch and down the corridors to the intel shack. She avoided the elevators and bound up ladders. When she heard the alarm to prepare for the jump into the Gagarin system, she turned her hurried jog into a sprint, shouting at spacers to clear the way.

The jump alert
sounded one hour before everyone needed to be strapped down. That was plenty of time to reach her goal safely and get belted into a jump position. It should be enough time to fill in the intelligence crew, notify the Kiirkegaard's command center and get notification to the rest of the squadron. When an obstinate knot of spacers blocked her way, she blew them to all sides as she barreled through them.

The vault
hatch to the intel shack was shut and locked. Misha hit the buzzer and banged on the hatch panels. She knew banging on the panels could not be heard from the inside, but it made her feel better.

"What? Who? Oh, Third McPherson. Sorry, we
’re locked down for jump. Better get to your bunk." Spacer Clancy's perky blonde holo-image appeared on the intercom.

"No can do,
spacer," Misha shouted with excitement. "Get this hatch opened quickly and get me a direct line to Britaine." She banged on the hatch with her fist near the visual input node. The pounding fist caused Clancy's holo-image to involuntarily duck. "Chief Brown, are you in there? Get me in quick. I’ve gotten a handle on the anomaly."

The
hatch made a few banging noises and slowly rotated open. Misha grabbed the vault hatch and all but tore it out of the hands of the two male spacers. She spun and slammed the hatch shut behind her.

Clancy shouted across the room, "Hey! When we get ready for jump that
hatch automatically closes. We can only open it by hand after that. This had better be good."

Misha smiled and said, "Nice to see you too, Clancy." One of the spacers from the
hatch was heading back to the comms collector. He apparently vacated the crash couch there to help open the hatch. She hooked her thumb at him. "Find another seat, junior. That one is mine."

The man whined, "
Hey, what gives? And the name is Cuffs not Junior."

Misha sat in the seat and began buckling in. Cuffs stood behind her looking bewildered.

Chief Brown said, "Listen to the lady, Cuffs. Find a seat. Use the astrometrics console." She looked up at Misha. "This had better be good, grunt. This is no time to be playing who's the boss."

"I know. We've got fifty minutes until
jump. Run the Binder signal anomaly again. Just do it, Chief. Buzz, get us a line to the command and control center and see if you can get them to wangle a line to Gurand."

Krandiewsky sai
d, "I can get us a line to the flight operations office, but Colonel Britaine won't take a call from intel this close to jump."

"Not even if we can show him that the Binder anomaly is an IFF signal? The Binders didn't have drones or probes in Allied
space; those were scout ships expecting a Binder fleet to show up. Why else would they send an IFF signal toward an incoming fleet?"

Cuffs said, "Come on McPherson, everybody knows the Binders don't use any signals we can recognize. They haven't used anything we can tell is an IFF signal."

Misha called up the last two signals, laying them side by side on the visual display. The base signal, while different was obviously the same pattern of rapid inquiry then pause.

Krandiewsky called out, "Kiirkegaard
flight operations on line, Third."

Brown said, "Okay McPherson, I see the pattern you've got." She
had duplicated the communication collector's visual display of the two signals on her desk’s monitors. "But, what makes you think this is IFF?"

Misha called out to Krandiewsky, "Put it on the speaker, Buzz.
Turn the volume up. She dropped her glass-pack into the data reader and called out a series of codes.

Over her
shoulder, she spoke, "Chief, I am tagging the standard APES identify friend or foe signal on the overlay next to the two Binder signals. Even taking into account the species differences, this is amazingly similar; too similar to be anything else. Please tell me I am wrong?" She shouted into the air. "Flight ops, prepare to receive data."

Chief Brown said, "It's too similar. It looks like it is human in origin. Cuffs is right, as far as we know the Binders don't use IFF routines. I know it is Binder, but it reads like human."

Misha cursed under her breath knowing she was close to disclosing classified information. Chief Brown was right, but it didn't change the situation. "Maybe the Binders took a page from our operational actions. I can’t say yet, but it shouldn't matter." In the background of the intel shack she could hear Brown cursing the signals.

"Major Krandiewsky, please relay this signal to
the operations office, ASAP," Misha said. The tone of her voice left little doubt it was a command even though she used the word please. In every respect, the Major out-ranked her and she knew it. But, she decided due to the time factor she would act now and take the flak later for being rude to a sister service senior officer.

A voice from
Flight operations boomed over the speakers, "Intel, what the hell are you doing? Get this crap off our screens. We have to jump in forty minutes."

Misha ordered, "Shut up and listen. This is a visual display of Binder signals collected in this and the last system the squadron was in. I believe that this signal is IFF. Patch this data through to
-"

The voice shouted, "Shut up? Who do you think you are telling to shut up,
spacer? This is the Executive Officer, Major Paradise. Identify yourself."

"This is
APES Third-Level Commander McPherson. If the Binders are in system and sending IFF, then they are looking to meet up with a fleet of their own. Patch this data through to General Gurand and get Colonel Britaine on the line."

"
APES Commander? McPherson, you don't cut any ice with me, I don't care who you think you are or who you are sleeping with. I don't take orders from you," Paradise said.

Brown spoke up. "Major Paradise, this is Chief Brown. I think the Third is right. We may have a problem here."

"Think? May have? Major Krandiewsky, what kind of a shop are you running down there? Get this shit off my screens." The XO disconnected the line with a thump.

"Sorry, Third
," Brown said. "I could have handled it better from my end."

Krandiewsky spoke up, "No, Chief
, this is my fault. Third McPherson doesn't have any official status here. We should have our ducks in a row before making any calls."

Misha nodded. She knew she
should have handled the call better herself. "That is your decision, Major. But, if we do have a specific enemy incursion into Allied Systems, then we are just about to jump into what? Do you know? I don't either, but I know enough about combat to know we shouldn't be moving forward and leaving the possibility of an enemy force at our back."

"Maybe you should have brought this to our attention earlier so we could have had time to investigate. You put us
in deep kimchee with the XO. I am not going to put my career or the reputation of anybody in this office on the line based on an unconfirmed theory," Krandiewsky said. "Please get out of my shop, now. You have about thirty-five minutes to reach your bunk for jump."

Misha stood quietly. She pulled her glass-pack and dropped it back into her pocket. She was fuming, but she maintained her calm as she waited for Clancy and Cuffs to cycle the
hatch open.

She stood in the empty corridor. With only thirty minutes to jump, everybody would be at their duty
stations or strapped into their bunk. It would take only a few minutes to get to APES territory. Still, she thought, it was only a few minutes more to Britaine's command and control center. She would not have time to get back to her bunk before the jump if she went to the CNC and she might be trapped in a corridor for the jump if she couldn't get past spacer guards or locked hatches. The inertial dampers would keep her from turning into jelly, but she could take damage banging around loose on metal bulkheads.

She turned and raced down the corridor to
CNC. As she ran, she called all of her seconds and Singletary, filling them in on as much of what was going on as she could. She also told them to roll into a stand-by mode as soon as the jump sequence ended. She skidded to a stop in front of the CNC hatch. It was locked in the open position. A lone spacer was already strapped into his crash netting by the hatch. It was a standing unit. He had locked his needler into a side flange to leave his hands free to strap himself in tightly, making him effectively useless. Misha nodded as she bolted past him and into the room. Everyone was in the final stages of buckling down. She spotted an empty crash couch three consoles from where Colonel Britaine sat staring at her. She wasn't surprised to see every eye in the place was on her.

"Ten minutes to jump, Third
," Britaine said. "I do say that this is very unusual, but you had better strap in quick. We will resolve what you are doing here after the jump."

She sprang toward the couch and began strapping herself down. She looked around at the group of officers in the center. Their faces reflected everything from open hostility and anger to disgust. She even noticed Britaine's normal insincere smile had turned sour.